In the Event of Mercy
by FettsOnTop
Summary: He was warned not to go out in the Jundland Wastes alone. Cody, of course, didn't listen. The only words he heard the barkeep say were "Kenobi," "Dune Sea," and "karking brown robe like a tall fekking jawa." Written for the Star Wars Rarepair Exchange.


**Ten Years After Order 66**

He was warned not to go out in the Jundland Wastes alone. Cody, of course, didn't listen. The only words he heard the barkeep say were "Kenobi," "Dune Sea," and " _karking_ brown robe like a tall _fekking_ jawa."

General Kenobi was always losing his robes during the war. Cody wondered if he'd gotten any better at keeping track of them since.

It was his pride that doomed him in the end. He was a former Commander of Galactic Army of the Republic. He'd crossed hell and back. What was a little desert wasteland?

It was all going fine, until the Sand People showed up. Okay, maybe it wasn't fine. He was almost certainly lost and his water supply had run out the previous day. But it was still better than what happened next.

They tied him to a salvaged metal frame in a tent, and one of them females came and gave him a sour drink. He hoped that was a good sign.

There seemed some sort of gathering taking place at their camp, he heard strange musical sounds and in twos and threes and fours they all came to look at him, from the tallest warrior to the smallest child. He tried to talk to them, to explain that he meant them no harm, but they didn't seem interested in anything he had to say.

When night fell, they started torturing him.

Not for information. Cody had the impression that there was really nothing they wanted from him, he was simply a decoration that needed a few painful touches. Every burn, every lash, every bone needle driven into his skin, it was done like a chore that must be completed.

Finally they left, and exhaustion overtook him. When he woke up, the female had returned with the bowl of sour drink. She looked at him, and her shoulders fell, as if she found him completely disappointing. He tried to talk to her, but as soon as she finished her task she left.

At night, they tortured him again.

Desperate to keep his mind occupied, Cody turned to analysis. Every injury inflicted was superficial, painful but not debilitating. They could have broken bones. They could have bled him. They wanted him to stay alive, but apparently they didn't want him to escape.

He tried wearing the ropes down by sawing them against the metal frame, but he only succeeded in rubbing his wrists bloody. His captors returned at night, and tortured him once again.

He was starting to fade in and out of consciousness. Whatever that sour drink was, it wasn't enough. When the female returned with it, he tried to apologize for whatever he'd done. "You have nothing to be sorry about," said a soft, surprisingly deep voice. Then suddenly his hands were free, and he was falling. It seemed like he fell for a long time.

And when he woke up, he was in a bed. And the first thing he heard was that voice. "Hello, Cody."

And impossibly, there was the man he'd been searching for. Sitting beside the bed. He tried to rise, but Obi-wan placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're safe. Please rest for now."

"What…where…"

"This is my house." The hand moved from his shoulder to his chest, smoothing down the edges of a bandage.

His soiled clothes were gone, and all of his wounds had been dressed. His voice sounded ragged to his own ears. "I...how did I get here?"

"Oh, I brought you here. I'm not surprised you don't remember." The Jedi pulled a blanket up a little higher on Cody's stomach. "You were tortured by the Tuskens. I'm not sure for how long."

The words clung to his mouth, unwilling to leave. "You saved me?"

"I'm only sorry I couldn't get to you sooner. They've become very secretive about their rituals. They keep moving the locations."

" _Why_?"

"It's difficult to say." Obi-wan stroked his beard thoughtfully. It was still the same coppery brown as Cody remembered, but sprinkled liberally with gray. "The intention is to provoke an act of mercy from their god, but-"

"No. Why did you save me?"

"Well." He actually looked embarrassed. "I suppose we might as well address the bantha in the room. The last time we saw one another, you tried to kill me."

"I thought I did kill you. You were listed as confirmed dead for...months."

"I should really thank you for that. It gave me time to tend to a few things. Two things. Two small things." Obi-Wan was smiling, damn him. As if this was a joke. Cody lashed out without thinking, seizing the front of his tunic and holding the thin fabric tight in his fist. "I. Thought. I. Killed. You."

All at once he was in his bunk again, tasting his own tears and the meticulously oiled barrel of his blaster. It was Rex who saved him then, Rex who pulled the gun out of his mouth and cried with him because Anakin was gone and Obi-Wan was gone and the galaxy had turned upside down. They curled up together on his bunk and gave each other the only comfort they could give.

And when his eyes refocused on Obi-Wan in the present, he was no longer smiling. "Cody. I'm so...I'm so sorry," the Jedi said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Cody released his shirt. "You're _sorry_ ," he spat. "I betrayed you, I tried to murder you, and you're _karking_ _sorry."_

His hand fell to the bed, still curled into a fist. Obi-Wan put his hand over it, his touch gentle. "I understand why you did it," he said. "I forgave you a long time ago, just like I've had to forgive myself for the part I played in it." He drew his hand back, and dropped his eyes. "And I hope you can forgive me."

Cody just stared at him.

"What we did to you...and to your brothers. It was inexcusable. I can't tell you how many times I've wished I had looked that Kaminoan Prime Minister right in the eye and said 'you're building an illegal, unauthorized army, stop it at once.'"

"That probably wouldn't have worked. No disrespect intended, Sir." The words slipped off his tongue before he could stop them.

"You could just call me Ben," his former general noted quietly. "It's the name I'm going by now. I'm quite used to it." He stirred a little. "I've let you do too much talking. I've got some broth here, if you feel well enough, or water-"

"Water, please." His tongue felt dry and clumsy. "Ben."

He found he could raise his head enough to sip water from a canteen. A precious resource out here. He was careful not to take too much.

"So, can I ask…" Ben gave an awkward little chuckle. "That flash you had just now, with Rex. Were you and he always…"

"Why?"

"Well, I always thought the two of you seemed very pleased to see one another, when our paths crossed."

"We were." He made a wobbly gesture. "Off and on."

"Ah. Of course it would have been inappropriate at the time for me to ask, but I wondered. And I find myself reminiscing about the war and all the little things that made it bearable. Like you, and Rex, and Ashoka and...Anakin." A dark cloud passed over the man's face.

Cody reached out and grabbed his forearm the way he would have with a grieving brother, and Ben clutched his arm so hard it was almost painful. "Thank you," he said, his eyes closing briefly. "I haven't really been able to properly mourn his loss."

"I'll mourn with you," Cody promised gruffly. "Get us some alcohol and we'll drink to the ones who died and the ones who marched away."

Ben looked up, horror and realization on his face. "You know."

"That he's Vader?" Cody squeezed his arm. "Come on. Anakin 'dies' and then suddenly there's a new Sith Lord running around with his exact fighting style? Rex figured it out almost immediately.

The former general gave a short, harsh laugh and released his arm. "Of course he would."

"It wasn't your fault, Si-I mean, Ben."

"On that point, we'll have to agree to disagree." A weary smile creased the Jedi's face. "Now I really would feel better if you would drink a little of this broth."

"Can't say no to a hot supper, can I?" He rolled to his side, gritting his teeth a little as the bandages shifted over his raw flesh.

"A very late supper. It's...oh, nearly oh-two hundred."

"Oh." He carefully maneuvered his arm up under his side and braced it against the bed. "I guess I'm keeping you up."

Ben went to the kitchenette and spooned a little broth into a cup. Cody wasn't especially hungry, but it smelled good. "I slept a little in the chair while you were resting," he said as he returned. "Don't worry about me. A soldier can sleep anywhere, as you well know."

Cody took a sip of the broth. It was warm and bland. "You gave me your bed."

"Accommodations for the injured. Don't get used to it." He said it with that glint of humor in his eyes that Cody knew well.

"We could share. You could fit three troopers on this cot."

"Three young, lean troopers, perhaps. Which we are not."

"Speak for yourself. In standard years, I'm only twenty-five. Maybe I'm not as lean as I once was-"

"And you look better for it," Ben interrupted him. "Really, Cody. Aside from your recent injuries, you look healthier than I've ever seen you."

The compliment caught him off guard, and warmed him nearly as much the broth. Lots of his brothers had thickened in their retirement, especially the ones with stable homes and steady work. Cody had neither, but he knew he was heavier than the old days.

"You're still thin," he said to Ben.

"But no longer young." As if his body was determined to underscore this, he yawned.

Cody handed back his empty cup. "There's room for two here."

"If you're sure it won't bother you." He put the cup away and then returned to the bed, laying on top of the blankets.

He could feel the warmth of the other man's arm against his, and hear the sigh in his breathing as he settled in. "You were right," he chuckled after a moment. "This is quite comfortable. It's been a long time since...I had company."

The skin of his wrist brushed Cody's hand, and without thinking he turned his hand caught Ben's thumb with his fingers. There was a strange silence where it seemed neither of of them were breathing, and then the Jedi moved his hand just enough to slip his fingers between Cody's. They were holding hands, fingers entwined, laying side-by-side and it was almost too much for him. Tears stung at the back of his eyes.

Ben cleared his throat. "Have you seen Rex lately? I have enough of a sense of him in my dreams to know that he's not dead, but obviously, I don't get out much."

"It's been a while."

"I can sense that you feel guilty about something, but if you don't want to talk about it…"

"I…" Cody was dancing near an edge here. A flimsy, crumbling precipice. "We were talking about the old days. I feel like I didn't always appreciate Rex the way I should have."

"As a romantic partner?"

"I didn't see him that way. I was...pretty hung up on someone else."

"Oh." Ben's voice dropped in pitch.

Cody gripped his hand a little tighter, wondering if now was really the right time for this. Then again, why wait another ten years?

There was one memory in particular that dogged his thoughts when he thought of Rex. The clone captain was on his knees, his strong hands gripping Cody's thighs and his blond head bobbing steadily up and down. Cody was nearing his peak, shifting and panting on the edge of his bunk, but slipped in between his feverish thoughts was the voice of his general.

 _You're a good man, Cody._

 _I don't know what I'd do without you._

 _You're a good man Cody._

 _I don't know what I'd do without you._

 _You're a good man, Cody._

 _I don't know what I'd-_

"Oh," Ben said again. This was the worst part, waiting to see what he would do. If he would pull his hand away. If his voice would turn stiff and awkward. It a way, it was worse than anything the Sand People had done to him.

"I was your commanding officer, Cody. I would never have-"

"I know." He squeezed the other man's fingers tighter. "I wouldn't have either. Against regs. But I still thought about it."

"That's very...flattering."

Cody's pulse stuttered anxiously.

"That's not what you wanted to hear." Ben sighed. "You were young and you had never known any life outside of war. It would have been too easy to take advantage of that. I couldn't _allow_ myself to think about it."

Cody swallowed and tried to lighten his tone. "Not even as a throwaway bunk thought? Not even that last really dirty one right before you come?"

The other man chuckled softly, and it was music to his ears. "Well...I suppose no one's perfect, are they?"

A breath he couldn't remember taking slipped out as a sigh of relief. "The thing is, I'm not young any longer. And I have seen a life outside of war."

"How was it?"

"I've seen enough."

"Well." Ben cleared his throat. "There's not much to see around here. And it's quiet. Most of the time."

"Could be nice."

"Yes." His thumb stroked over the back of Cody's hand. "I think it could."

They slept just like that, side-by-side, holding hands. In the morning Cody sat up and had more broth, and then kissed Ben because he thought he could do it without wincing. He wasn't exactly right about that. He was on his feet by the third day, following the Jedi around his little homestead. On the fourth day Ben brought out the alcohol, and they drank to the war, the heroes and the lost.

Then they laid on the bed, and Cody stroked Ben's flushed skin and kissed the freckles on his throat. The Jedi's hands were under his shirt, caressing his chest and stomach and sides. "Having you here..." Ben said softly, "it's almost enough to make me believe in a merciful god." His fingers drifted down, drawing a shudder from Cody. "Can I...unfasten your pants?"

"Not if I unfasten yours first." Cody captured his mouth in a long and fervent kiss. He rolled the other man over onto his back, and Ben willingly lifted his hips to be rid of his pants. He did manage to get Cody's unfastened as well, and a half-hearted attempt was made to cast off other clothing. They pressed together with all the awkwardness and chuckling of two slightly drunk people, groaning at the first touch of bared skin to bared skin and panting as heat built between them.

Ben was not quiet in his pleasure. He practically shouted when he spent into Cody's hand, his back arching off the bed. When his eyes opened, he looked at Cody with wonder, as if he'd just done something truly remarkable. Then he swallowed and suddenly looked uncertain. "You...you are staying aren't you?"

"I'm staying," Cody promised, burying his face in the curve of the other man's neck. He could feel the throb of the Ben's pulse against his cheekbone, a wild yet comforting rhythm. It felt like the end of a long journey. It felt like peace.

 **9 Years Later…**

"The _kriff?_ " Cody realized his commlink was buzzing. "Sorry," he said to the merchant. "I'll be back." He walked out of the Mantellian shop and ducked into a nearby alley. "I told you not to comm," he grumbled as he brought up the message from his husband. "Too risky when I'm offworld."

Not only had Ben broken this rule, but he had recorded the message at a public _karking_ commstand in Mos Eisley. Cody could see the street in the background, and an old R2 unit rolling back and forth impatiently like it's circuits were about to short. There was a protocol droid standing beside it.

"Cody." When he heard the urgency in Ben's voice he forgot all about the droids and the public setting. "I'm afraid the day has come." He paused. "I do hope you didn't buy that new vaporizer yet, though I suppose it doesn't matter now. The Empire is here, and I have to get Luke to safety. Meet us at Bail's hideout on Alderaan. If our pilot's half as good as he's boasting, we'll get there first." He glanced over his shoulder. "Luke should be done selling his speeder by now. Be safe, my love. I'll see you soon."

Cody turned off the commlink, slipped the memory chip out of the bottom and dropped it on the street before crushing it beneath his boot. He started moving towards the spaceport, quickly, but not quickly enough to draw attention. There was a lanky young Twi'lek in skintight clothes standing outside a brothel, and Cody motioned to him. "How'd you like to make an easy fifty creds?"

"How easy?" He replied warily.

"I need someone to book me a flight to Alderaan. Can't do it under my own ID."

"Hmm." The Twi'lek looked him over skeptically.

Cody took a chit out from his belt. "Seventy-five."

He took the chit. "You want a hand job with your flight pass?"

"No thanks. Just get me the pass."

"Sir, yes, sir." The young man saluted carelessly, a gesture from someone who had clearly never served in any army ever. Cody took his place against the wall to wait for his return, confident that no one would mistake a stocky man in mismatched armor for a brothel employee.

He looked up at the sky and wondered if Ben and Luke were off Tatooine yet. "I'm coming," he said aloud. "Don't do anything stupid."

Just in case Ben could feel it.


End file.
